


As it Is Down Below

by RavenDarkwood



Series: As it is Down Below [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, But then got better, M/M, Mage!Martin, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Speed run through the first half of season one, The entities are neutral gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenDarkwood/pseuds/RavenDarkwood
Summary: In a world of magic it's safer to ally yourself with one of the gods or their followers. The Magnus Institute and its employees are no different.Gertrude Robinson, who so many feared and cursed, is dead. A new archivist and archival assistants have taken her place, and now have to face the many challenges and dangers that she left behind.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: As it is Down Below [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755538
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	1. Prologue: It's not Easy

The ceiling of the reception area inside of the Magnus Institute was painted, and covered in eyes. They were big, small, abstract, realistic, and all painted a very vivid shade of green.

At the reception desk there was a small shrine to the Eye where employees and guests could leave offerings as they passed.

She only tightened her hold on her box.

There is a door in the Magnus Institute.

This door is just beyond the reception desk, pressed into the ride side of the corridor that would lead to the library. It was unlabeled, but had a certain air about it that marked it as ‘employees only’.

Beyond that door was a narrow, stone staircase. Old stone walls enclosed it on either side, and the staircase cut off about four steps down at a landing and another wall, before pivoting to the right. There were only two lights in the stairwell, one of which was above the landing.

The other was at the bottom, above the door was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs. This door had a plaque bolted to it that read "The Archive".

Or it would if someone wasn’t standing in front of it.

In front of that door, on the very bottom steps, was a short figure. The light above his head and his sharp features cast his dark skin into shadows. 

He turned his head as he heard the door at the top of the staircase open and close, and he was cast into further shadow as a tall someone stepped in front of the light.

Jon didn’t smile, but his tone was light. As light as Jon could get at least. “Good morning, Sasha.”

“Morning Jon,” she called back as she made her way down to him, holding a pear colored skirt up in one of her hands, and holding a box against her hip with the other. She let go of her skirt once she was at the step above him and placed the box at her feet. “So this is the archive?” Sasha said as she nodded towards the door.

Jon took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Well, that is what the door says.”

Sasha snorted out a laugh. “Point well made.” She leaned back against the old brick wall behind her. “Have you ever been inside?”

Jon’s eyes moved away from her and fixated on the plaque. “No. Have you?”

“’Course not, it’s the archive.”

He makes a sound that’s the complete opposite of a sigh, instead of letting out a breath to relax he sucks in a breath and tenses. “That it is.”

They both lean in silence, staring at the door.

The door at the top of the staircase opens.

Jon pushes himself off of the wall so fast that he nearly collides with the opposite wall.

“You alright there Jon?” Sasha raised her eyebrows rather high as she looked down at him.

Jon scowled up at her, but wasn’t given a chance to respond before someone turned the corner onto the landing.

“Good morning all,” Tim brightly as he descended the stairs. He was balancing two boxes against his chest, a square one with handholds on either side on the bottom, and on top was a rather thin, rectangular box. “I brought celebratory doughnuts,” he announced once he got to the step above Sasha’s. “Why are we standing in the stairwell? I want to get inside and pick out the best desk.”

“I was here first, I get the first choice of desks,” Sasha argued, reaching for the doughnut box.

“Well, I brought doughnuts so…” Tim dodged around Sasha’s grasp.

Jon straightened back up. “I haven’t been given the keys yet. Magnus is supposed to meet us-... Tim, are you wearing jeans?”

Tim looked down to where his emerald button-up was tucked into his jeans. “Oh, I guess I have,” He responded in faux surprise. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said to Jon, not noticing that Sasha had grabbed a chocolate doughnut while he was distracted. “We work in the archive now, it’s not like we’ll get dress coded.”

Jon pressed his lips together. “Well, I hoped that at least for the first day you could dress professionally, but-”

“Speaking of that,” Sasha interrupted. “I’m glad you're still wearing your glasses chain,” she said, gesturing towards it with her half of a doughnut.

For the four years he had been working at the Magnus Institute Jon had only ever had one glasses chain, which was strung mostly with small, obnoxiously bright green beads, with two tiny wailing ghost beads breaking up the pattern of just green beads on either side.

Most learned quickly not to comment on them.

Jon bristled, snatching the glasses off of his nose.

“No, don’t take it off. It would be weird seeing you without it,” Sasha pleaded.

Tim snorted as he leaned against the old, stone wall. “We’re losing him to bureaucracy.”

Jon scoffed, gesturing with his glasses, pulling the chain tight against his neck. “Listen, I know we’re…” Jon took a breath, looking up, away from either of them.

“... Friends,” Sasha supplied. She was looking at him with a disbelieving grin.

“I-I, um, I try not to assume. I know I’m a bit…” Jon trailed off again, squinting at the stairs as if they would give him the proper word.

“Of an ass,” Tim finished with a grin.

Jon fixed Tim with a look. “Yes, well, I'm your boss now, so I’m going to have to be more professional.”

Tim hummed and nodded. “Yeah, _you_ need to be more professional.”

“Tim-” Jon started to scold.

The door at the top of the stairs opened again.

Jon hastily pushed his glasses back onto his face. He drew himself up as tall as he could be, his back straight as a nail, and his eyes fixed on the stairs.

Tim’s smile dropped, almost scowling as he turned to face the stairs. He didn’t bother pushing away from the wall.

Sasha schooled her expression into one of forced ease, an almost smile. She used her foot to move her box closer to her, hiding it behind her leg.

A male figure stopped on the landing, back-lit by the light, casting his entire form into shadows. He started down the stairs. And came closer. And closer.

There were two signs as the figure came into the light; one frustrated and one that was just a release of tension.

“Morning, Elias,” Sasha said brightly.

“Please tell me you are here to give me the keys,” Jon said tightly.

“Afraid not.” Elias stopped on the step above Tim’s. “I actually came to tell you that Jonah will be a bit longer. He’s hiring- Are you wearing jeans?” He sneered at Tim.

“Are you wearing weed socks?” Tim countered, pointing out the sliver of leafy greens that they could see.

“You bought me these.”

“They were a gag gift, I didn’t expect you to actually wear them.”

“He’s hiring?” Jon prompted tersely.

Elias looked at Jon, confused, and then a slight glimmer of realization flashed across his face. “Oh yes, he’s hiring your third assistant.”

A silence followed, not that Elias looked bothered with it.

“A new hire, directly into the archives?” Sasha asked, a bit flummoxed.

Elias nodded. “A mage. That’s why it’s going to be a bit, they’ve got to clean up the blood and bandage him up before coming down. They were going over the employment contract when I decided to come down.”

“He hasn’t even hired them yet?” Tim’s voice was rising. “And he’s having us waste our time waiting on him. How does he even know that they’ll go with it? I imagine the whole ‘can’t actually quit and if Magnus dies, you die’ thing is a bit of a hard sell.”

Elias shook his head. “No, I’m sure he’s going to sign the contract. He’s one of Jonah’s favorite kinds of employees.”

“Curious?” Jon guessed dryly.

“No loved ones to notice if they’ve gone missing?” Sasha added after a snort.

“Desperate,” Tim growled out.

“Well,” Jon started, his voice a bit loud and a bit high. “Well, does he at least have the qualifications?”

Elias’ eyes turned to Jon and gave him a smile that could have been sheepish. “Well-”

“Oh christ,” Jon muttered, turning away.

“He supposedly has a master’s in parapsychology, and all the teachers said that he was a perfectly average student, not worth noticing once so ever, but when we looked him in the school’s records… well...”

“He spelled the teachers?” Sasha crossed her arms over her chest.

“He spelled his CV,” Elias corrected. 

“Which, in turn, spelled the teachers,” Sasha said with a half smile.

“So one third of my team will simply be useless,” Jon concluded in a loud tone, or at least loud for him.

Elias only shrugged. “You needed a mage, and it’s surprisingly hard to get one from upstairs to transfer down here.”

“Tim and I-” Jon started to argue.

“Are just psychics,” Elias finished. “Neither of you can actually do magic. You need a mage. And you know how much the archives are a priority to Jonah, he wouldn’t hire someone he thought would harm it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What’s he like?” Sasha asked.

Elias tilted his head, considering. “A bit pathetic really, or at least as much as a mage can be. Face is really scarred, whatever killed him seems like it tried really hard.”

They settled back into silence.

“Bit of a people pleaser,” Elias added after a moment.

“Christ, will you-” Tim started.

The door at the top of the stairs opened.

A single pair of heavy footsteps started down the stairs. 

“-and once your arm is all healed up your magic will be stronger, so keep that in mind.”

A tall figure, so very tall that his flyaway curls brushed up against the ceiling, came to stand on the landing. He wasn’t even looking at them, but up the stairs towards the door.

The tall figure ducked his head, looking towards the floor, and then around at the walls, anywhere but the being that they all knew at the top of the stairs. “Right. Yes, I will.” The tall figure turned towards them, curling his shoulders, and walked down the rest of the stairs.

Elias had been right about how scarred his face was.

Most of the scars were thin, but had been deep, and most were grouped in parallel lines of between two to five scars, with a few stray lines here and there. Most were near his jaw, but that didn’t stop two scars from going from his forehead through his left eyebrow, narrowly missing his eye.

It was hardly a surprise for a mage, though. 

On a scale of “human to not” mages were right in the center. They were once humans, but had been killed but one of the various magic and horrors of the world, and they were able to choose to survive and become something else rather than stay human and die. They were somewhat rare, not because humans would choose to die, but because mages tended to be made in very specific, but also very hard to control, circumstances. You were far more likely to just die from a werewolf or even become one than to get stuck in the middle.

It was hardly a surprise to see a mage looking a bit worse for the wear

Psychics, on the other hand, were just on the “not quite” side of humans. Psychics were those who merely brushed up against the supernatural, the paranormal, the fantastical and came away with abilities of their own to counteract what they had gone through. Humans were adaptable creatures after all, and can survive through a lot, with the right tools..

But the new hire gave them a smile. A soft smile, that almost edge on timid, that fit perfectly on his face. He smiled at them and rolled the sleeve of his forest green turtleneck down over his now bandaged right arm. He messed with the sleeve for a second, as if he could pull it over his bandaged hand, but gave up rather quickly.

His eyes then went up, looking at the very close ceiling, and his eyebrows pushed together a fraction.

“Not claustrophobic, are you Martin?” Elias smirked.

Martin’s eyes locked onto Elias, his smile still fixed on his face. “Oh, um, it’s fine. I’m just… a bit tall I suppose?” 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Sasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Probably got some boots to go lick.” Tim’s tone was joking, but he spoke through a curled lip.

Elias sneered up at Tim, but looked to Jon. “Shouldn’t you be controlling your employees, _Archivist_?”

But Jon wasn’t looking at Elias, or at Martin or Sasha, and not even at Tim. He was looking past them all, to the man that was standing on the step behind Martin.

Everyone quieted when they noticed he was there, and his piercing green eyes swept over them. “You’re all so spirited today.” He looked over to Elias. “I was wondering where you had gone. Well, since you’re already down here how about you show them around? Unfortunately, I have some paperwork to get to.” He didn’t wait for any of them to respond, and just pulled out a ring of keys. “Give these to Jon, won’t you Martin?”

“Oh, of course.” Martin took the ring of keys, looked over the group, back to the keys, and then up, with his lips pressed into a tight line. “Um…”

Elias let out a snort of irritation and snatched the keys out of Martin’s hand, only for Tim to snatch them out of his. But Tim was also holding two boxes suddenly with only one arm and lost balance with how quickly he had grabbed the keys from Elias. If Sasha hadn’t been there to catch him Tim might have fallen into Jon, boxes and all, which given that Tim was at least fifteen centimeters taller than Jon and had at least thirteen kilograms on him Tim probably would have taken Jon down with him.

Sasha sighed, smiling, shaking her head fondly at Tim. She carefully took the keys from him and handed them to Jon.

Jon, who looked like he was trying to murder most of them with his mind, looked back to where Jonah Magnus had been.

Only to find him gone.

The door at the top of the stairs closed.

Elias sighed heavily as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s get this over with, I have things I need to do. Also, I recommend everyone getting their phones out and turning on the torch. I don’t remember exactly where the light switch is in the hall, but I know it’s in a very inconvenient place. Like near the interview room or something.”

There was a shuffle as everyone started pulling out their phones. 

At the same time, Sasha picked her box back up, placed it back on her hip, and she turned to face the Archive door. She gave Jon a calm smile and held her box tightly to her.

At the same time, Martin stared down at his bandaged hand, remembering the pain as he signed the employment contract.

At the same time, Tim caught Martin’s staring. “If you’re wondering if you made the right choice,” Tim told him, turning to face the door as well. “You didn’t.”

At the same time, Elias was turning on the torch on his phone, and he looked at his eye shaped cuff links, at the eyes he knew were staring back, and he was afraid.

At the same time, Jon took a deep breath, and inserted the key into the lock.


	2. Chapter 1: Are you Curious?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha James

Sasha struggles under the weight of the books. She’s stretching her arms as far as they can go, and the books are stacked up to her chin.

Octavia snorts when she spots Sasha making her way over. “You got enough books?”

“I can’t carry anymore,” Sasha complains. She tries to get up onto her tiptoes to put the books on the check-out desk, but nearly falls over under the weight of it all.

Octavia catches her and starts putting the books up on the counter for her.

“Looks like we have a bright young reader here,” the librarian says eagerly as she finished up with someone who paid for a print.

“Yeah well, this right young reader is carrying her own books back to the car,” Octavia teased, pushing Sasha’s shoulder.

Sasha scoffs, and pushes Octavia’s side, but given that Octavia is almost twice Sasha’s height she doesn’t budge an inch. “Come on, Vivia.”

“Come on nothing. If they’re too heavy, then you shouldn’t get so many.”

“But I want to learn!”

“Oh!” The librarian says, interrupting their squabble. “What sort of things to do you want to learn? Maybe next time I can help you pick out books that match your interests better. That way you wouldn’t have to get so many.”

Sasha turns to her sharply, the beads strung through her hair clattering against each other. Her eyes are bright and she smiles. “I want to learn _everything_.”

* * *

Sasha’s phone buzzed while she was writing about her dreams in her journal. She closed it and slid it back in its usual spot beside her potted iris.

She only hesitated for a second before switching from the photo of a dog to the Archives group chat.

**Tim**

tubes trying to eat people again

**Jon**

Whoever dedicated the tube to the Choking Embracer was an idiot

As much as I would like all of you to be on time please don’t get crushed in the process

**Tim**

yah wasnt even considering dying to make it to work ontime

**M. Blackwood**

Oh i hope everyone’s okay :( i’ll be able to be there in time

Sasha squinted at the last person in the group chat, but it doesn’t take long to realize the obvious. The new hire, their co-worker, the third archival assistant. Elias had introduced him on their first day in the archives.

And for the life of her Sasha couldn’t remember his name.

He was… tall, wasn’t he? Very tall?

What color was his hair?

Sasha wrinkled her nose for a moment and stuffed her phone into her bag. There was a simple fix for this though, she would see him today. She’ll just have to pay more attention.

Maybe take notes.

She’d have to see if she can get Tim to ask him his name. The Scholar Knows that Jon wouldn’t do it.

While she set up a plan to gain these lost bits of information Sasha rummaged around her bag until her hand closed around something metallic and long.

The key made her skin tingle where she touched it, almost a numb feeling, but it slides into the keyhole easily enough.

When Sasha looked back up her door was no longer her door. In its place there was a bright, eye-achingly magenta door with a bright green eye at the top. In the same eye watering bright green the door read _Magnus Institute Research Fast Travel - 5_.

A bit of a wait then, nothing terrible.

Sasha kept her hand on the ornate key as she waited, eye flicking around her own flat as she waited for the countdown.

It didn’t take long, and it wasn’t like it was difficult to open a door and walk through. There was a loud, sudden creak, like a wooden house settling.

Sasha pulled the door open and stepped into Research in the Magnus Institute, shutting the door before taking the key out. As nice as it was just traveling from door to door it could be finicky.

Sasha moved out of the way as quickly as she could. The last thing she wanted was to cause a traffic jam.

She slid the key back into her bag, turning to see a lot of the Research staff staring at her, but not quite meeting her eyes. She gave a few of them friendly waves, which were returned with hesitation, but no one approached her to talk.

Sasha looked around, and honestly it wasn’t like they were subtle in their determination to avoid her eye. She decided to just pick a victim she turned to the nearest face she knew the name of.

“Hi Joey.”

Joey blinked at her for a moment, shifting his weight so it was on his back leg. “Oh. Hi, Sasha.”

She smiled, in what she knew was a pleasant, co-worker appropriate smile. “How’s your morning?”

Joey shrugged, his eyes not leaving her. “Same as you’d expect, I suppose. Aren’t you… In the archives now?”

Sasha nodded, gripping the strap of her bag. “Yes, but we haven’t been given our fast travel keys yet, so Lilian let me keep mine until I get a replacement.”

He nodded, but didn’t continue.

It felt cruel, trapping him there by social norms, and she refused to feel embarrassed because no one seemed to want to talk to her.

She kept her calm smile as they just stood there, like she hadn’t realized what exactly she was doing to poor Joey.

Finally he seemed to give up on pretending that he didn’t want to get away from her. “I… I’ll see you around, okay?” Joey asked weakly, as if he would just combust on the spot if he just admitted that maybe he just didn’t want to be around her.

“Yeah, maybe.” She watched as he walked away. For a moment she debated trying to make lunch plans, but she had better things to do.

The ceiling above the reception desk had been painted to look like it was nothing but eyes, but Sasha was used to it by that point. Elias was leaning over Rosie’s desk, and they seemed to be having a quiet argument that they quickly stopped when Rosie noticed that Sasha was walking past.

“Good morning,” Elias yawned, straightening up to turn to Sasha. Between Elias and Rosie there was make-up remover and eye drops sitting on the reception desk. They were both washing off the makeup they used to hide their Chronicler's Markings.

“Did you have a pleasant way in? I hear the tube’s getting rowdy again,” Rosie asked pleasantly. She had already removed her eye makeup, so her bright green Chronicler's Marks were fully on display. Her’s were right in the middle of Elias’ and Jonah’s in terms of bold design. A classy cat’s eye marked her top lid with four thick dots on the bottom lid were more stylized than Elias’ simple, thin marks along his waterline.

Sasha didn’t move any closer to either of them, but slowed down. It’s not like Jon would get there before her this morning. “Lilian let me keep my Research fast travel key until we get our Archive ones. When are we getting those?” Sasha asked Elias.

Elias only snorted and kept scrubbing at his eyelid. “Absolutely no idea. It’s up to Jonah.”

“Will you bring it up to him?”

“Hmm…”

Sasha hummed in response to Elias’ humming. “Green looks good on you Elias. Brings out just how red your eyes are,” she said casually as she walked to the door that led to the basement, ignoring Rosie’s snorting laugh and Elias’ scoffing.

She nearly knocked over a box of statements as she opened the door, only just grab it at the last second.

“Oh, good morning Sasha.”

“Good morning,” Sasha responded automatically, righting the box. She turned to see who else was in the room and looked up. And up. And just a bit more up.

At 182.9 centimetres Sasha considered herself tall. She was the second tallest person in the Archives now, towering over Jon, and Tim was only a bit shorter than her. Their new coworker was at least twenty centimetres taller than her, probably more.

He was giving her a pleasant smile, but given how his shoulders were hunched he didn’t seem to be very comfortable with the situation.

Especially seemed he was looming over a door in the ground that hadn’t been there before that had an outline of magenta chalk around it. It perfectly matched the small bit of magenta chalk he was holding.

“Yes, sorry, a bit of a mess… um….” He tilted his head and walked over to a desk that wasn’t hers or Tims’ and crushed the last bit of chalk between the desk and his hand. He then rubbed the dust onto his hands and went back over to the door. With a twisting of his hand the door was twisted from reality. “I’ll have to remember to put more chalk on the shopping list,” he said as he turned back to Sasha. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem at all,” Sasha responded easily, setting her bag down on her desk. “Is that how you got in this morning?”

“Yeah, Tim said the tube was being all weird, and I was running a bit late anyway,” he admitted. “I, um…” He wiggled his chalk covered fingers. “I’m going to go wash my hands before Jon gets on me about making a mess.”

Sasha nodded, quirking a smile. “Good idea. Chalk probably isn’t great for the statements.”

He nodded his head quickly and hurried away and out of the archives.

Now if only she could remember his name.

Sasha isn’t alone for long as she set up her workstation for the day. Her co-worker returned just as quickly as he had gone.

“Probably going to be doing the same as usual, eh?” he casually asked while he fished around in his bag.

“Probably,” Sasha admitted. “I know Jon wants to record the statements, but right now that doesn’t seem possible.”

The problem was that magic doesn’t mix well with technology, and the statements were magic, plain and simple. Jon had once tried to record a statement electronically, but the computer had shaken, emit magenta colored smoke, and turned into a pile of live fish that flopped their way across the desk and onto the floor.

“Right, right, so more research, and cataloging, and sorting, and all that.” He had dug out a rectangular pin and pinned it to his turtleneck, just to the left of an oval locket he was wearing. “You’ve been working on a catalog,” he stated, even though they both knew that. “How’s that been going?”

Sasha frowned and shrugged. “The problem is that we need tags and search topics so we can sort through them, but we don’t know what would link the statements besides what gods or monsters they’re caused or influenced by, locations, you know, obvious things.”

“Right, right. Obvious things.” His pin read _Hello! My name is Martin_ , and he straightened it on his sweater as he spoke.

“Where'd you get that?” Sasha asked as she nodded at the pin while setting her laptop on the side of her desk.

“Online. You see these things once in a while, ‘mage care kits’ and things like that. It can be useful,” Martin admitted with a bit of a shrug.

The door swung open, and Jon came marching in with Tim on his heel. Jon quickly looked around the room and seeing Sasha and Martin already there he nodded. “Right, good. Everyone’s here. Sasha I want you to start on case number zero-one-two-two-two-zero-four.”

Sasha nodded and dug through her drawer for a pen when something caught her eye. At first she thought it was old sweet, but upon closer expectation it just appeared to be a little spiral, one made of three magenta strands that twisted around each other to form one large strand and then curled up upon itself.

“Tim I want you-”

“Wait a second Jon, I just got in too. Let me at least pull my things out.”

“What should I do?” She heard Martin ask this at the same time Sasha tried to grab the little spiral. Her fingers sank right through it.

“Hm? Oh. Go get us some tea or something.”

“Right away, I’ll be right back.” Sasha heard Martin’s heavy footsteps go away from her, and heard the door close.

“Right that should keep him busy for a bit.”

“Eventually you’ll have to actually use him,” Tim said. 

“Tim, he lied on his CV, and he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. Sure it’s nice and all that he’s nice, but we already have too much to do with four people, nevermind the fact that one of those people is actually useless. Him being _nice_ isn’t going to help the fact that we’ll have to pick up his slack or fix his mistakes.” 

Sasha let out a small hum of consideration as she continued to grasp desperately at the little spiral and watched her fingers sink right through it. “Wow, someone lying on his CV and being given a job he doesn’t know how to do in the archives? That’s never happened before.”

“Lying about my age differs greatly from Martin-” He cut himself with a sigh. “Look, I just don’t understand that Jonah’s goal with this is. It’s not just him going over my head to hire someone new when he specifically said I could handpick my team, but what is the point of hiring him?”

Tim snorted. “I think you just don’t like nice people.”

“Well, that Martin is nice to me is proof enough that something is wrong here. People aren’t nice to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Sasha and I are nice to you.”

“No, you’re not, Sasha just made fun of me. That’s why we’re friends.”

“Jon, you know there’s a difference between teasing and being mean, right?”

“Hey,” Sasha interrupted. “Can one of you guys try to grab this? My hand just keeps going right through it.”

“What?” Jon asked, and Sasha could hear both of them come over to her desk and kneel beside her.

“Budge over.” Tim pushed into Sasha’s space, reaching past her to the little spiral. His fingers sunk in a bit, but they closed around it.

“What is that?” Jon muttered to himself upon Tim presenting it to the other two. Jon prodded at it, his finger sinking into it, but ultimately coming to a stop. “It’s pure magic, the Artist’s it looks like, but what kind of spell is that?”

“I haven’t seen a spell like this before.” Sasha poked at it, and her finger went through it. She could feel the skin of Tim’s palm before she could feel the little spiral she had found.

“Me either.” Once Sasha and Jon had pulled their fingers away, he started tipping it back and forth in his palm, as though testing the resistance.

“Well,” Jon said, drawing himself up. “It seems you have your assignment Tim. Find out what this is and report back.”

“Wha- Sasha’s the one who found it.”

“Sasha can’t even touch it. I’m sorry if this will interrupt whatever or whoever you were planning to do this morning-”

Sasha nearly choked on her snort.

“But you have your assignment,” Jon continued as if Sasha wasn’t dying a foot away from him. “When you’re done with that I want you working on case number nine-nine-eight-two-two-one-one, and after you’re done with your respective statements, I want both of you working on zero-zero-seven-zero-one-zero-seven. I’ll be in my office trying to get the statements to record if either of you need anything.”

“Right, I’ll just-” Tim started, but Jon had already turned away. He let out a huff when Jon’s office door closed. “Where am I even supposed to start?”

“No idea.” Sasha returned to her desk. “Now, I’ve got some calls to do, and you probably have some spell books to consult.”

Tim shoved at Sasha’s rolling chair as he went past, and Sasha’s laugh followed him out.

* * *

Researching the statements was rewarding, like solving a minor mystery, and every new discovery sent a slight thrill through her.

She had been going through Sarah Baldwin’s social media to see if she could find any pictures of her smoking. Her parents said she didn’t, but it never hurt to do a bit of snooping.

There was someone standing behind her. 

“Using company time wisely I see,” Tim said, and Sasha spun her chair around to swat him on the arm.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your work?”

“Lunchtime. I was going to get something in the canteen. You coming with?”

“You buying?” Sasha said with a smirk as she gathered herself and followed Tim up the stairs.

* * *

Tim snorted.

Sasha looked down at Tim. “What’s up?”

Tim’s eyes flicked up to her’s, but quickly looked back forward, and put on a tight smile and nodded forward. “Look at them.”

Sasha followed his gaze, and found clusters of people that either wouldn’t look at them at all, or would glance at them for a second before looking away.

“Wow,” Tim muttered.

“It was like that when I got in this morning too,” Sasha laughed. It shouldn’t be as funny as it is.

“Yeah well, we’re getting paid more and we have our own private break room,” Tim countered to no one in particular.

“We should get back downstairs before someone walks too close to us and wets themselves.” Sasha gathered up her things and walked off without a second glance.

Tim only lingered for a second before following.

* * *

“I thought you two were eating in the canteen,” Jon commented to his curry when they entered.

“It’s getting cliquey upstairs,” Tim sat down next to Jon.

“How so?”

Sasha shrugged, taking a spot across from Tim. “People are avoiding us now, that sort of thing.”

Tim snorted. “Including people I thought were friends, but hey, what did I know?”

Now Jon raised his head, with an eyebrow alongside it. “What did you expect? We’re in the archives now. Don’t try to tell me you both didn’t avoid Gertrude and her lot when you were upstairs.”

Tim gestured with his fork to nothing in particular. “But that was Gertrude. Anybody with any sense would avoid her.”

“Gertrude Robinson?”

Tim and Sasha startled at the sudden realization that there was a fourth person sitting at the break room table.

He only had a notebook in front of him, and he was smiling politely, and Sasha cursed to herself mentally when she realized that she was drawing a blank on his name again.

“Oh, you’ve heard of Gertrude, Martin?” Jon asked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tim lean his head back in relief, but she kept her face neutral.

Martin didn’t manage it however and surprise flickers over his face for the briefest moment before schooling his expression back into casual politeness. “Who hasn’t? ‘The real monster under your bed’, and all that. Never knew her personally, of course, but I’ve heard stories.” He jotted something down in his notebook before shrugging. “Plus there’s the whole ‘mysteriously disappearing’ thing. Though I guess she’s legally dead now, from what I hear.”

Tim snickered to himself. “Do you remember when Georgie Barker reported on the blood on the desk thing before anyone else could? Magnus was so pissed.”

“Why? Isn’t he… Well, I don’t remember the right term, but a cleric for the Ceaseless Scholar? Giving out information is kind of part of the whole deal, isn’t it?” Martin asked.

“They’re called Chroniclers. And unfortunately it’s more complicated than that,” Jon said with a grimace.

“Magnus is a control freak,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes.

Sasha turned to Martin, a slight smirk across her face. “Magnus thinks Georgie has an informant inside of the Institute, and he hates it.”

“Good thing for us that the informant hasn’t told the public about us yet. Gods know that Gertrude had enough enemies that would be perfectly willing to skin Jon.”

“Suddenly I don’t like where this conversation is going,” Jon said dryly, focusing on Tim now. “Did you learn anything else about that spiral?”

Tim snorted and checked his watch. “I still have fifteen minutes of break left, boss. So,” he continued, turning back to Martin. “My theory is that Gertrude faked her own death and retired to the Bahamas. Eventually she had to tire of just pissing everyone off all the time.”

Sasha shook her head, looking down at her sandwich. “You never met her, did you?”

Three sets of eyes turned to her. “And you have?” Jon asked.

Sasha nodded. “I have.”

“What was she like?” Martin asked, tearing the page out of his notebook.

She looked at the three of them. Jon seemed to have forgotten about his curry and rice, Tim was slogging his way through a bite of his sandwich, and Martin was looking between her and the page he was doodling on.

“Honestly, what d'you expect. Stone cold bitch, sharp, that sort of thing.”

Tim snorted, and swallowed. “You’d think she’d keep the archives in better order then.”

Sasha pressed her lips together. “You’d think.”

Jon put down his spoon. “Sasha, what-”

A tiny bark interrupted him.

On the table there was a small, paper dog where Martin’s notebook paper had been. It sniffed along the table and barked every so often.

“Oh puppy,” Tim cooed, leaning forward to gently run his finger along the dog’s delicate back. Jon picked up his lunch and leaned away from the table, as if paper suddenly had the appetite for human food.

But Sasha’s eyes were on Martin. “That’s right, you’re a mage…” A mage that was hired specifically because Magnus believed that the archives needed a mage, and no one from the other departments would come down to the archives. And given the look on Jon’s face, she wasn’t the other one who forgot.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “How d'you guys forget?”

“Wait, how do you remember?” Martin asked.

Tim opened his mouth, grimaced, and shut it. After a few moments where he seemed to debate in his head he spoke. “Not saying that you’re not a good-looking guy Martin, but mages just kinda look a bit…” He trailed off, gesturing to his own face.

Jon and Sasha looked over at Tim. 

Jon bristled, putting on the demeanor of someone who was in charge. “Tim, if you’re referring to his scars-”

“No, no!” Tim blurted out. “It’s just… Martin doesn’t look super human.”

Sasha’s eyes flicked back and forth between Tim and Martin. “He looks human to me…”

“Um, we might need to examine your definition of human then…”

“I’m sorry,” Jon realized, not sounding at all sorry, as he turned back to Martin. “Do you know about the memory problems we’ve been having regarding you?”

Martin pressed his lips together into a tight line, and then sighed, looking down. He took out his phone, tapped on a few things, and showed it to Tim. “This is what they’re seeing.”

Tim looked at it. “Oh, that makes sense then.”

“Yeah, anyway, um…” Martin looked at Jon. “A bit, yeah? It’s normal, with me. People forgetting that I exist and all that. Side effect of what I am. Elias said he would mention it to you, but I guess he must have forgotten.”

“Or he just didn’t bother,” Jon sighed, exasperated. “Well, is there anything we can do so we don’t forget the very important fact that you can do magic?”

Martin only shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure? I think just attempting to remember or having little reminders. You remembered my name when Sasha and Tim came in,” Martin pointed out. “That’s more than most.”

“Remembering your name should be the bare minimum,” Sasha stated.

“It’s just something that I’ve gotten used to,” Martin muttered as he looked off towards one wall

“Martin, if we showed you a bit of magic would you be able to recognize it?” Jon asked suddenly, setting his food back down on the table, not even minding that the small paper dog had walked away from Tim and was sniffing beside his plate.

“Maybe? I only know one proper spell, but I could look.”

“You only- Okay,” Jon said, cutting himself off, the momentary anger and disbelief now gone for his voice. “Tim, can you show him the spiral?”

Tim pulled it out of his pocket, and while it sunk into Tim’s hand it laid on Martin’s palm. After a small hum Martin set it on its edge on the table and flicked one side so it was spinning around on the table like a coin. He watched for a moment. 

“Not fast enough,” he muttered. He fished out a small vial out of his components pouch. Martin put his hand above the spiral, let a droplet of clear liquid fall onto the back of it, and pressed down towards the spiral slowly, making it spin faster and faster.

“Well, we now know it makes an excellent toy,” Jon commented dryly.

“Wait,” Sasha hushed, as Tim was turning to Jon. “Do you hear that?”

They followed her eyes back towards the spinning spiral. It was making an odd warbling noise.

Martin pinched the spiral between his fingers to stop the spinning.

The noise continued, though the warbling stopped, and they leaned forward to listen to the rise and fall of the noise. At one point, it stopped and then started again.

“It’s repeating,” Tim pointed out.

“I think that’s a voice,” Sasha said, standing up to move closer.

“A recording? Wouldn’t recording magic fall under the Scholar?” Jon asked, standing with her.

Martin tilted his head back and forth. “The Scholar or the Mother, a mix of both would work too? I think this has been corrupted by the Twisting Artist’s sort of magic. Probably why we can't hear it clearly.”

“Would you be able to fix it?” Sasha asked, reaching forward, but her fingers still just passed through it.

“Um, I can try, but probably not? Or at least it might take a while…”

“Can you do something like that?” Jon asked suddenly.

Martin blinked over at him. “What?”

Jon pointed to the spiral. “Can you make some sort of… magic based voice recorder? Something that could record all the statements, something that Sasha could touch, that we could put in the files.”

Martin tilted his head, eyes following the dog around the table. “Well… Let’s see, Sasha needs to touch it, magic is weird with technology so that might be difficult and finicky without, you know, corrupting it and all, plus there’s the fact that the statements about the Secret-Keeper and their lot need to be able to be recorded too, though I suppose those Scholar followers that write down the statements already do that so who knows if that would actually be a problem-”

“Martin,” Jon interrupted sharply. “Would you be able to do something like that?”

Martin looked up at him, blinking as he struggled from continuing to get caught up in his train of thought. “Let me test a couple of things, and I’ll give you an answer at the end of the day.”

* * *

The end of the day came soon enough. Sasha continued to follow up on case zero-one-two-two-two-zero-four, and Tim started in on case nine-nine-eight-two-two-one-one, while at his desk Martin wrote things down in notebooks, drew little things on his hands that Sasha couldn’t see with his magic mask up but Tim said were just little eyes (poorly drawn, like Martin couldn’t see them either, but that didn’t seem to make a different), and make little magic bubble of words that burst against the ceiling in small calls of “hello”, and “testing”, and “asshole” which was helpfully provided by Tim.

Sasha monitored Martin’s work. She had never seen someone just… develop as spell before and hadn’t ever thought someone would just make one not four feet from her from office supplies and what little they had in their components pouch. She wasn’t about to interrupt right now though, maybe not until she had a better understanding of making a spell.

Tim was another story. “How d'you know to spin it?”

Martin shrugged, not looking up from his notebook page. “It was a spiral, wasn’t it? Made sense to spin it.”

“That seems… simple.” Sasha pointed out, because he was already interrupted now, so there wasn’t any harm, really.

He looked over at her. His eyes were a warm brown, but Sasha also knew that’s not what color they were. “It’s not hard, it’s just magic. People sing, and draw, and dance, and I do magic.” Martin picked up the little spiral that she couldn’t even touch and flipped it over in his hands a few times.

Sasha cast her eyes back down to her work.

She knew that it was closing time by Jon marching up to Martin and giving him a stern “Well?”

Martin shrugged, gesturing to his work throughout the day, some of which were bouncing along the ceiling. He never quite looked Jon in the eye. “I-I-I think I have a way to do it? But I need some time to actually be able to, and I don’t have the supplies I need here-”

“How long?” Jon interrupted.

Martin’s eyes snapped to Jon. “Give me the night.”

Jon nodded and turned away to Sasha and Tim. “What about you two?”

“I should have mine in the morning,” Sasha said as she gathered up her things.

“Mine might take a bit longer, got to talk to the housing association.”

Jon nodded, looking down at his own papers. “Right, right, so…” He muttered to himself for a few seconds, and turned around and left.

Martin sighed as he gathered up his things. “He’s not leaving with us again?”

“Yeah, he does that. Did that back in research too. Jon’s a terror to everyone and himself.” As he passed Tim gently hit Martin’s arm with the back of his hand, or at least would have if Martin hadn’t moved away at the last moment. Martin looked like he should blush, but Tim was merciful and didn’t mention it. “You should hear about some stuff he got into in research. Like once he broke into a guy’s apartment so he could look around to see if he had this book or something? It was wild.”

Martin’s eyes went wide, and he looked back at Jon’s office door. “Really?”

Sasha nodded, placing her hand on Tim’s back to push him forward and out the door. “Yeah, and one time he was looking into this building where like some people were getting murdered, like a haunted house type situation, and he actually went there.”

Martin turned back to her, moving out of the way almost instinctively for them to get through the door first. “So Jon’s just… always been like this then?”

Tim shrugged. “As long as I’ve known him.”

“We’ve got more stories. I don’t think Tim’s even told me all of his, and I know I want to hear them.” Sasha turned around to talk to Martin, who was following them out.

* * *

The next morning they gathered around… his desk, and Sasha took a moment to remind herself that she needed to find a reminder of his name.

On the edge sat a tape recorder.

“This is your idea of a magic recorder?” Jon said scornfully. “A literal tape recorder?”

Her very tall co-worker ducked his head down, and for a second it looked like he was going to play with his locket, but instead started fiddling with his _Hello! My name is Martin_ pin. “I like them. Lo-Fi charm and all that?”

“Does that matter?”

Martin tilted his head, not quite meeting any of their eyes. “Well… yeah? It’s magic, not something you learn from a book.”

“Martin, people literally learn spells from books.”

Martin seemed like he could only shrug. “I don’t. I make all of my spells.”

“How does it work?” Sasha asked, leaning in to look closely at it.

“Most of the magic is the Scholar, a bit of our Mother, just in case you’re dealing with a statement with the Secret-Keeper or the Artist, or more than one.”

Jon suddenly leaned back away from the tape recorder. “The Chronicles are able to take statements just fine just using Scholar magic.”

“Well, you’re not just taking a statement, you’re making a tape.”

Jon huffed. “Again, does that matter?”

Martin sighed a bit. “To me it does.”

Jon groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Martin shrugged a bit helplessly, holding up his hand and opening his mouth to say something, but when nothing came he just sort of waved his hand around a bit. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say? What the spell components mean to the maker of the spell matters more than what they mean? It’s hard to explain, it’s more of an art.”

“It’s not though,” Jon argued.

“I’m sorry, which one of us is the one who can do magic?” Martin suddenly exclaimed, and they all suddenly remembered that Martin was big and broad, Martin included. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- anyway, um…”

“How long did this take you?” Sasha asked as she went back to examining the tape recorder. “It doesn’t look any different from a normal recorder.”

“I can see the magic,” Jon said, squinting at it. “But it’s… On the inside?” He looked back up to Martin.

Martin nodded quickly. “Yeah, all the components and the language of the spell is on the inside. I thought it would be a good idea for it to just kinda look like a normal tape recorder, you know, to those who can’t see magic,” Martin added, his eyes flickering up to glance at Jon, before falling again. “And it took me all night. Took a bit for the paint to dry.”

“All night? Did you sleep?” Tim’s eyes were now on Martin.

“Um… no? I had other things to do while the paint dried, so I was just up all night.”

Tim caught Sasha’s gaze over Jon’s head and gave her an exasperated shrug. 

Sasha just shrugged in return, because honestly what could she do if two grown men wanted to ruin their sleep schedule.

Jon didn’t notice their exchange and was focused back on the tape recorder. “Martin, there’s not a live spider in there?” Jon asked as he backed away.

“Wha- no, of course not! I mean, there is a spider in there, but it’s not a live one, that’s so inhumane-”

“Is there a _dead_ spider?”

“No! It’s a spider-shaped pencil sharpener.”

Jon blinked. “A... pencil sharpener?”

Martin nodded, mimicking sharpening a pencil with his hands. “Yeah, you stick the pencil in the front, and the shavings come out of the abdomen. I thought it was cute, and it makes sense, recording statements and all.”

Jon looked down at the tape recorder, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Right. A pencil sharpener. Well, I doubt this will work, but I suppose I’ll try.” Jon pulled a small slip of paper out of his folder and held it aloft for the other three to see. “This is a brief statement, but it contains references to three to five types of magic and or gods.” There was only a second of hesitation before Jon picked up the tape recorder and took it into his office.

Martin waited for the door to close before turning to the other two. “ _Three to five_? Sure I think it’ll be able to take more than one, but that’s a lot.”

Tim shrugged, using the now empty space on Martin’s desk to pull himself up onto it. “It’ll be fine. You tested it before bringing it in, right?”

“Um…” Martin started a bit weakly.

“Well, this will be interesting,” Tim said with an abrupt laugh after a moment of just staring at Martin. He turned to watch Jon’s office door. “If it doesn’t work what’ll happen?”

Martin shrugged. “Probably nothing. It won’t make a tape or anything. If there’s any sore of… well, random magical effect it’ll probably be more in alignment of the Scholar or our Mother?”

“So what you’re saying is that the tape recorder might just start busting out eyes or something?”

Sasha leaned on Martin’s desk next Tim. “Or it might grow spider legs and just start following Jon around.”

“Oh Gods, yes. If anything happens, it needs to be that.”

Martin pursed his lips, sitting down in his chair. “Well, anything other than just a recording will end badly.”

Tim turned to Martin, grinning. “No, no, Martin. You don’t understand. Jon hates spiders. Loathes them with a passion.”

“What? Why? Spiders are great.”

Tim shrugged. “No idea. Just hates them.”

Sasha’s eyes were fixed on the door. “Well, we would have noticed if it turned into a spider by now. Jon would be pretty loud about a spider that size.”

“Unless he hasn’t noticed yet. Or died of fright.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Martin whined. “I don’t want to accidentally kill my boss in my first week.”

“He could always come back as a mage? That would be cool, another mage in the archives.”

“Murder’s still murder Tim,” Martin almost sighed, and now Sasha twisted around to look at Martin. “Even if they get up afterwards.”

Jon’s door opened, and instantly three sets of eyes were on him. He wordlessly walked over to Martin’s desk and hit the rewind button.

Sasha could hear Martin’s gulp from where she was leaning.

The recorder made a click as it rewound the tape all the way. Jon looked over at Martin, an eyebrow raised, but Martin didn’t meet his gaze. He was still staring at the tape recorder.

Jon hit play.

Martin let out a shuddering sigh of relief when Jon’s voice came out of the speakers. “Test… Test… Hopefully if you’re hearing this than-”

“We haven’t even gotten to the statement,” Jon said with a raised eyebrow.

“Right, right,” Martin muttered, going tense again.

The four of them stood there, watching the tape recorder in silence. Jon’s voice filled the quiet room, and they all just had to wait.

“Statement of Jacob, no second name given, regarding… Scholar Knows what. Original Statement given July 15, 2011. Statement begins.”

There was a slight pause, and Martin sucked in a deep breath. Sasha crossed her arms over her chest, squinting down at the little magic machine. Tim grabbed Sasha’s arm.

“It’ll get you-”

They drowned the rest of the statement out by a lot of noise all at once. Tim cheered and threw his hands up in the air and clapped Martin on the shoulder. Martin was laughing, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes under his glasses. Sasha had grinned, clapped her hands together, and even jumped a little in her excitement. Jon had made no noise other than a brief gasp. He watched the recorder with wide eyes, with the sudden realization that it had worked and what this could mean for the future of the archives.

Jon stops the tape and clears his throat. 

It takes a few moments for the commission to die down, but eventually three sets of eyes are on him. “Good job Martin.”

Sasha saw Martin’s smile out of the corner of her eye, and honestly it’s painful to see him so happy over the most basic compliment someone can get.

“Now,” Jon starts, taking the tape recorder up and tucking it behind his back. “I want all three of you working on case number zero-one-three-two-eight-zero-six.” Jon’s shoulders are tense as he surveys his assistants. “It’s a Leitner case.”

Tim swore and turned his face towards the ceiling as if praying. Martin made a gagged sound and leaned back in his chair.

Sasha’s the one who reached for the statement, and when Jon gave it to her she flipped through it.

“Thankfully from what I’ve gathered from my brief look over of the statement none of you will have to go to the library.”

“That’s too bad, I have a library card. Could have been useful,” Sasha muttered.

“You have a what?”

“I do too,” Martin admitted mournfully. “I even applied for a job there.”

Now Jon turned on Martin. “I’m sorry, you what? Why would you ever do something like that?”

“It’s got to be the only place that goes through employees faster than the Institute.” Tim shook his head, looking between Martin and Sasha. “I can’t believe you both go there willingly.”

Sasha shrugged. “It’s useful. Why didn’t you get the job?”

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t like the fact I’m not registered to perform higher levels of magic? I don’t mind much though. Sure it pays better than here, but you know like two years ago there was an incident involving stuffed animals made from the years 1988 to 1990 that previously belonged to at least three children? I was there when that happened.” Martin shuttered. “I don’t think I could work there.”

“Is that how you-” Jon started.

“No,” Martin interrupted. “That’s not how I died.”

“Well,” Tim said before anyone else could. “I guess maybe we’ll run into your statement about all those scary teddy bears one of these days then.”

“Oh, no. I’ve never given a statement.”

Sasha looked up from the case file. “What do you mean you’ve never given a statement?”

“... That I’ve never given a statement?”

“But you’re a mage.”

“Yes?”

Sasha blinked. “Well, that means you died by supernatural or magic means. Someone must have come for your statement.”

“Well, someone did, but I kept turning them away. After a bit they just stopped coming. It wasn’t like mine was interesting, anyway.”

Jon shook his head. “Then they must have gotten the statement from someone else. The Witnesses and Chroniclers don’t just leave a statement behind.”

Martin looked between the three of them, and then to the stacks. “So what, there’s a statement about me in there?”

“Has to be,” Tim said as he slid off of Martin’s desk.

“Anyway, I want you three to get started on the case. I’ll be working on case number…” Jon checked his notes. “Nine-two-two-zero-six-one-one and recording the statements we’ve already done.” He turned to walk into his office. 

“I’m sorry, did you say nine-two-two?” Tim called after Jon.

Jon threw one of his hands in the air in a shrug. “It was in the twenty tens. I’ll deal with it, you three just get started on your statement.”

As Jon walked off Tim came to Sasha’s side to read over her shoulder, but Sasha’s eyes remained on Martin.

Martin’s eyes remained locked on the stacks.

* * *

“-And it was the same tooth in different stages of decay.”

Jon blinked and looked off for a moment as he seemed to digest Sasha’s words. “The same tooth… The same exact tooth, or the same kind of tooth?”

Sasha shrugged. “Didn’t say, but I have a feeling it was the first?”

“Makes it spookier that way,” Tim agreed from across the room.

“Right, anything else?” Jon said pointedly as Sasha opened her mouth.

“I did a follow up with Kieran, but he had nothing to add, and said that no more bags were delivered.”

Sasha and Jon turned towards… Martin, which is what his pin said. His name was Martin. “Yes, all right,” Jon said with a nod. “Get the reports to me by-”

* * *

“And so he takes her back to his flat-”

Jon groaned as he knotted his scarf around his neck. “I don’t think I’ll like where this is going.”

“Ooh,” Tim said as he put his trench coat on. “I think I do.”

Sasha smirked down at him, buttoning up her coat. “Then you’ll love the part where she explodes in a mess of worms.”

Tim made a gagging noise, and Jon let out a sigh through his nose, his eyes cast towards the ceiling. “Of course she did.”

“And you would not believe who she ran into before she exploded. Jane Prentiss,” Sasha said, not waiting for their guesses.

Tim made a pained noise. “Rotten luck.”

“Jane Prentiss?”

It was Martin, because of course it was, because of course he was still there with them, and he had been the entire day Sasha reminded herself.

“Yes you know, the Flesh Hive,” Jon said impatiently. He waved his hand in little circles as he spoke. “Incarnation for the Lady of Rot and Growth-”

“A goddess on Earth,” Martin finished, and his hand curled around his locket. “Oh Gods, that poor woman.”

Jon dropped his hand to his side, and the four of them looked at each other, no one quite meeting each other’s gaze. “Yes, I can only imagine that would be a horrible way to go,” Jon finally said.

“Did you forget your jacket today Martin?” Tim asked as they waited for Jon to lock the archives door.

Martin shrugged. “Don’t really need one.”

Sasha glanced over at Martin for a moment and found she now knew a new little secret.

* * *

“I interviewed Anika again, but she had nothing to add,” Tim said as he handed the paper over to Jon.

“What about Lensik’s father, with the…” Jon checked the statement. “‘Mage with all the bones in his hands’.”

“I couldn’t find anything on him,” Tim said with a shrug.

“Martin,” Jon turned to Martin, who was holding his own report in his hands. “Would you be able to figure out what kind of mage this mage was?”

Martin shrugged a bit desperately, but to Sasha it seemed like he had something else on his mind. “Given the fractals thing some part of the Twisting Artist, but other than that, no. No two mages are the same, even if they’re turned by the same magic. It would be probably impossible to tell without asking.”

“Right, well what did you turn up?”

“Well,” Martin started, and he didn’t look very hopeful. “Nothing much honestly. I couldn’t find any dates for when it burned down, nor that it was even a halfway house, just that it was passed from Walter Feilding to Alfred Feilding to Raymond, but Raymond’s obituary praised his work with troubled youths so…” Martin trailed off, and shrugged helplessly.

“Right, of course,” Jon muttered, holding out his hand for Martin’s report. “I should have expected...”

Sasha watched Martin wince. He looked down and away. “There’s… something else,” he added as Jon walked away.

“Oh? What is it now?” Jon didn’t physically roll his eyes or even turn towards Martin, but his tone of voice severely applied it.

“The Pyre. Agnes Montague,” Martin started, and now everyone was looking at him. “Um… Incarnation for the Eternal Flame?”

“Get to the point Martin,” Jon said tightly.

Martin nodded quickly. “She died the same day that Ivo destroyed the tree. She was found hanging in her apartment… with severed hands tied to her waist.”

“No fucking way.” Tim pulled at the statement in Jon’s hands, not out of them, but just so he could read it. “It can’t be the same Agnes.”

“And Raymond died in a house fire,” Martin added. “I mean, it could just be a coincidence, but…”

“Not with my luck,” Jon muttered, leaning close to Tim to read with him.

Martin watched them both for a moment before looking away, not noticing that Sasha was watching him.

“Great, so what the fuck does this mean?” Tim finally said.

“Probably to stay away from Hill Top Road,” Sasha snorted. “Secrets secrets.”

“Sasha, make Hill Top Road one of the tags for the catalog, just in case. I have a feeling this will come up again,” Jon said with a sigh.

“Got it.”

* * *

“Rayner,” Jon spat out upon entering the break room.

“Hello Jon, thanks for joining us for lunch,” Tim managed to say through his mouthful of pasta salad.

“What about Rayner?” Sasha asked as she set down her fork.

“One Maxwell Rayner is mentioned in case number zero-zero-two-zero-three-one-two, and a Joseph Rayner is mentioned in case number nine-nine-two-zero-six-one-one.” Jon dropped the case files on the table.

Tim let out a low groan and buried his face in his hands. “Come on, it’s our third week. We can’t be dealing with fucking immortals.”

“They can’t be the same person,” Jon stated as he shook his head. “They can’t be. Joseph Rayner was apparently a dead man when they found Owen with his tags, he can’t be founding cults in two thousand two. It’s… just a coincidence, or a… maybe they’re related, or maybe it’s nothing at all.”

“Um,” Martin started, putting down his pencil. “I died, remember?”

Jon huffed, rounding on Martin. “Yes Martin, I know that you died, but there isn’t an _eighty-four year difference_.”

“What, you actually did the math? Before coming in here to rant at all of us?” Tim said incredulously.

Jon opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Sasha.

“I guess… Rayner is a new tag for the catalog.”

* * *

“-and apparently vampire teeth were left with the statement, but they’re not with the files. All we have is a photocopy of a photocopy of a statement that wasn’t even finished!” Jon finished and chewed on his pen. He then went to mumble something about police reports while looking at the statement.

“What do you think happened to the other half of the statement?” Sasha asked.

Jon shrugged, holding out the folder for her to look at. “It’s not here.”

“Oh, um…” Martin started, but trailed when Jon’s angry glare fix on him

“ _Yes_ , Martin?” Jon prompted. “Out with it.”

“I asked Rosie about it, since she would have been here. She said that he said he needed some sleep, went to lie down in the break room, and died.”

Jon stared at him, his glasses falling down his nose. “ _Died_ in the break room.”

Martin pressed his lips together in a grimace and nodded. “Yeah…”

Tim looked between the three of them, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Guys, if our break room is haunted by a _vampire hunter_ I might actually quit.” And then he laughed, as if any of this was funny.

* * *

“Not staying for the service?” Elias asked as they went past. He was covering his Chronicler's Marks with makeup.

“Ew of course not,” Tim said with a wrinkle of his nose.

“I already have to listen to Jonah all day, the last thing I’m going to do is be forced to listen to him more.” Jon didn’t even stop, and kept walking on without them, even as Sasha paused, and Tim along with her.

Sasha snorted. “Do I ever? And it looks like you won’t be either,” she said, pointing to her own eyes.

Elias sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve gotten an appointment to get to today so Rosie said she would cover it. It simply can’t be helped.”

“With who? Your dealer?” Tim asked with a snort.

“Yes actually. Good guess.”

Tim placed a hand on his hip. “Wasn’t that hard. That seems to be your main hobby these days.”

Elias tilted his compact, so he was looking at them. “If you had to deal with Jonah all day, you would be high too.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t,” Sasha pointed out.

Elias closed the compact with a snap, and turned on them, eyes only half done. “Today he made me go back to my flat and change because I didn’t come in wearing the suit he wanted.”

Tim choked back a laugh. “You’re fucking joking.”

“I’m not! How do you think our outfits are always coordinated? He buys them for me.”

“Elias,” Tim whispered through laughs. “Is _Jonah Magnus_ your sugar daddy? Are you fucking our boss?”

Elias looked around wildly and leaned in. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on. I swear he looks at me sometimes like he either wants to fuck me or wear my skin, and I know he enjoys how weirded out by him I am, and there’s this whole thing with his ex-” He paused, and rolled his eyes. “Wait, give me a second.” Elias walked over to someone that worked in the library and started passive aggressively berating them on how their pant legs were apparently two-and-a-half centimetres too short.

“Gods he’s such an asshole,” Tim muttered. “Still, I wouldn’t want his job.”

Sasha hummed as they turned and walked out of the building. “Have you ever noticed that Elias looks kinda like Jonah? I mean, not exact, but they have the same build, about the same height, both have kinda dark hair, both are starting their middle ages…”

“Oh my god,” Tim laughed with a sudden realization. “Jonah’s just a fucking peacock. He picked out another fucking twink that looks a bit like him, and dresses him up nicely in outfits that match, just to make himself look better, holy shit.”

“Oh no,” Sasha laughed with him. “Poor Elias.”

“Fuck Elias, he’s such an ass. Someone’s got to deal with good old Jimmy, and it might as well be him.”

“No one deserves that,” Sasha said as she shook her head. “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, not moving for a moment, and then grinned. “We should all go out for drinks sometime. All four of us. We all need a good break.”

Sasha snorted. “Good luck getting Jon to join, but maybe us and Martin can do something.”

“Yeah, that would be fun.”

They both stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“I’ve got to go,” Sasha said. “I’ve got things to do at home.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Tim said immediately. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Sasha promised, and she turned away. She didn’t look back, but she had a guess that Tim had lingered.

* * *

Sasha sat down at her desk and pulled out her notebook. For the briefest moment her fingers brush against the eye on the cover. It doesn’t last long, and she placed it back on the desk and started writing about her day, and the secrets she learned.

* * *

Sasha climbs the stairs, her hands tight on her side bag.

She was always saying that her life was far more boring, so now she is doing something about it. It was as simple as that.

She almost hears people saying that this isn’t like her, that level-headed Sasha wouldn’t do something like this, that entering one of the most dangerous buildings in England just to satisfy her own curiosity would only end poorly.

Well, maybe that’s what it is then. She had complained once to a co-worker about how dull she found the job, and he laughed and said that was the security that she was feeling, of being safe in such a dangerous world, and hey isn’t it lucky that you’re not a psychic yet? Few can say that.

She continues to climb the steps, and honestly it didn’t take long for her to reach the top. And she just… stands there.

She just stands there, looking at the doors of the Library of Jurgen Leitner.

Right, now she just needs to get inside.

She shakes her head, because this is what she came here to do. She would march inside and get herself a library card. It was as simple as that.

“Right, right, come on,” she breathes to herself, and reaches for the handle.

It opens before she can even touch it.

A man stands in her way, and he’s probably somewhere around average height, but he’s shorter than her. He’s frame is small, his suit looks very expensive, he’s holding what looks to be bright green fliers, he doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s standing there for a moment.

When the twink looks up, she sees that he has what looks like bright green eye-liner tracing his waterline, but it glows in a way that is magical.

“Oh, sorry,” the Chronicler says, but he doesn’t at all sound like he’s sorry. His eyes are fixed on her’s, and they’re hazel. “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s… fine,” Sasha says, raising an eyebrow when he doesn't move. “Did you need something?”

He smirks and raises an eyebrow right back. “No, but I think you do.” He hands her a flier. “If you end up coming in just say that Elias gave this to you.”

Sasha takes the flier, and scans over it. She barely processes that the twink has walked away. It’s a job advert for The Magnus Institute, and she nearly throws it away on principle, but something catches her eyes. A sentence that she can’t look away from.

_Are you Curious?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please let me know your thoughts about this chapter! Are there any scenes you really enjoyed, or character interactions? Any world building that you like? What are you curious about?
> 
> Fun fact: the references to the archives crews' clothes are based off of dark academia aesthetics.  
> Jon - Darkest Academia  
> Sasha - Scholarly Academia  
> Tim - Classic Academia  
> Martin - Romantic Academia

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a title so I just quoted Kermit. Maybe. I don't know if I got the quote right.
> 
> This is my first time writing these characters so I hope you found them enjoyable.
> 
> Also fun fact: Unless I messed up green is the only color mentioned in this chapter, and every character is wearing some sort of green clothing or accessory (except Jonah his eyes are green so he gets a pass)


End file.
